


i’ve got a tattered line of string

by ghostcribs



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crushes, M/M, More tags to be added, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, himbos being oblivious and dumb, prompt fics, you know the usual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:26:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25052380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostcribs/pseuds/ghostcribs
Summary: Maplekeene one-shots based on prompts!
Relationships: Argo Keene/Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	i’ve got a tattered line of string

Argo is used to sharing living quarters. Honestly, the dorm room at Wiggenstaff’s is a lot more space to himself than he’s used to having. An actual bed with a mattress, his own chest of drawers, even his own little desk—it’s a big step-up from a little hammock and tiny corner of the bottom of a ship. Not that he really has enough belongings to fill the space. He was a little embarrassed about it, after he’d realized how much stuff Fitzroy owns, but the Firbolg has even less than Argo so maybe it’s not too unusual.

But he’s certainly no stranger to being in tight spaces with other people literally all the time. Having personal space and privacy isn’t much of a thing at sea, so you kind of have to get comfortable in front of strangers pretty quickly or else forfeit your own comfort and be more or less miserable. And he and his roommates are pretty far past being strangers.

So Argo doesn’t really understand why Fitzroy seems to get so uncomfortable and embarrassed when he’s hanging out in the room with his shirt off. It’s summer break, the annex is _hot_ , and even though Fitzroy seems perfectly fine strutting around in his usual long-sleeved shirts and fancy cloaks ( _how,_ Argo doesn’t understand, but there’s much about the half-elf that he doesn’t understand), Argo is certainly not about to suffer unnecessarily.

No one bats an eye when you go days without ever putting on a shirt at sea, and it didn’t even occur to him that it might be different at school until one day when he’s in the room reading over some books on sneakery and Fitzroy walks in holding a thermos of some cold drink and nearly spits it out upon seeing Argo lounging on his bed.

Argo glances up and gives him a quizzical look. “Y’alright, Fitz?”

His nonchalance seems to throw Fitzroy a little, because the barbarian stutters for a moment, his face growing quite red, until he pushes his glasses up his nose and dramatically fixes his gaze at a spot on the floor. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem a little…” Argo shrugs, not really knowing what to say.

“I’m not a _little_ anything.” Whatever emotion he’s experiencing seems to shift quickly to irritation. He sets his drink down with considerable force and climbs aggressively up to his bunk.

Argo has never known someone who could put so much feeling into the most mundane of little actions the way Fitzroy can. Sometimes he wonders if his roommate is aware of how dramatic he is or if he really is just _like_ that. Even the way he lays out on his bed and opens a magazine with a flourish seems very over the top and fueled by something that Argo can’t even begin to guess at.

As with most things Fitzroy says and does, Argo rolls his eyes at it and lets it go without much thought. If anything, the little fits are strangely endearing and very amusing, which he wouldn’t have been able to say the first few months of knowing Fitzroy. Sometimes, when he allows his mind to go there, he wonders when he stopped thinking of the half-elf as annoying and pompous in a negative, angering way and started seeing those traits as kind of charming instead. Fitzroy is charismatic for sure, and definitely still annoying and pompous, but it’s…different somehow, now. And it’s confusing as hell, which is why Argo doesn’t think about it too much.

He returns his attention to his book, the sound of Fitzroy flipping the pages of his magazine in the background. The Firbolg had gone out some time ago to spend the day, Argo assumes, in the regular woods that are near the campus, or maybe the stables. It’s a hot day, but it’s nice out, so he probably won’t be back for a while. Eventually, as the sun gets higher in the sky, the temperature of the room seems to heat up even more and soon Argo feels uncomfortably sweaty.

He stands to open the window and ties his hair up in a messy bun on the top of his head. He’s starting to get a bit antsy without much to do. He’s been working in Last Hope since the start of break, but today’s a day off and he doesn’t handle ample free time incredibly well. He stretches his arms up over his head and bends a little at the waist, working the muscles that have grown stiff from inactivity. “Hey, Fitz, you wanna go spar for a while?”

He can almost hear Fitzroy gritting his teeth, and he doesn’t even look up when he hisses out, “No.”

Argo frowns. “Oh… Well, d’ya wanna take a walk into town or somethin’?”

“No.” He turns another page. “But if you want to, don’t let me stop you.”

“What, you’re just gonna sit here in the heat?”

Fitzroy sighs loudly. “That’s the plan.”

Argo puts his hands on his hips. “C’mon, Fitzy, don’t just sit around alone all day. Come do something with me.”

“Don’t call me that. And I’m _good_ , thank you.”

“What’s eatin’ at ya? Did I do somethin’ to make you mad?”

Fitzroy glances over at him quickly and then his face goes beet red again and his eyes snap back over to his magazine. “N—no.”

“What? Somethin’s obviously bothering you. What’s the matter?”

“Jesus Christ, Argo.” He slaps the magazine closed and turns to face Argo irritably. “Could you _please_ …? Hmmm, I don’t know—maybe put a shirt on?!”

Argo blinks in confusion. “Huh—? I—” He looks down at himself, not really knowing why. Maybe some sort of explanation as to why his bare torso seems to be such an issue for Fitzroy. “Why—”

“ _God_.” Fitzroy then opens the magazine and drapes it over his face. “You can’t just— _walk_ around like that!”

Argo’s well and truly bewildered now. “Why not? Sailors do it all the time, and it’s hot, Fitz—Fitzroy.”

“I know it’s hot,” Fitzroy mutters under his breath, so low Argo almost doesn’t catch it. “It’s just...it’s distracting.”

Argo laughs mockingly. “I know I’m sexy, but—”

He cuts himself off abruptly, because as soon as the words leave his mouth he notices Fitzroy tense up. It’s almost imperceptible, the subtle tightening of his muscles and clenching of his fists, but Argo sees it and suddenly something clicks.

“Oh,” he breathes. His heart rate picks up and his body flushes with heat that has nothing to do with the summer. “You _do_ think I’m sexy.”

He can’t bring himself to fully believe that’s actually what’s going on—at least not until Fitzroy reaches up to slide the magazine down his face just enough to uncover his eyes, which are giving Argo an extremely nervous sideways glance.

“Is that—” Argo quirks an eyebrow and folds his arms over his chest, cocking one hip out slightly. “Sir Fitzroy, are you _flustered_?”

Fitzroy sits up on the bed in a whirlwind and suddenly the magazine is hurling towards Argo’s face with such tremendous speed and force that he can’t reach out to block it, and it smacks him so hard he stumbles back onto his bed.

When he recovers from the shock and sits up, the door is swinging in its frame and he only catches a glimpse of the tail end of a scarlet cloak disappearing down the hall. He jumps to his feet and swings out of the doorway, gripping the frame with one hand.

He cups one hand around his mouth and shouts, “Is that a hard no to hangin’ out then?”

At the end of the hall, Fitzroy pivots on his heel and points an index finger at Argo. “Put on a goddamn shirt, Argonaut Keene!”

After that day, when Argo decides to go shirtless, it’s a very intentional decision he makes for one very specific purpose.


End file.
